


experiments

by willowcabins



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: F/F, Warehouse sex, pre-porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-13
Updated: 2013-06-13
Packaged: 2017-12-14 21:25:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/841559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/willowcabins/pseuds/willowcabins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Helena had never really had the opportunity to test how resilient the Warehouse was to sexual energy, and Artie's absence as good a time as any to try it out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	experiments

Helena decides that the alpha sector the Warehouse is probably the safest. She had considered the predicament of artefact reactions, and after some reasonably detailed research, the alpha sector seems her best bet.

Artie takes Claudia on simpler missions with him: “training the apprentice” he boasts in a voice that betrays his paternal pride as his protégée grows up. He gives strict instructions for inventory for his remaining three agents: Helena’s newly learnt skills on a computer means that Myka is allotted the alpha sector. Randomly, of course.

Helena is bored by her own assigned task early on, and decides now is as good as a time as any. She goes in search of Myka, who is carefully housing all the windows in the alpha sector. She’s descending a ladder as Helena approaches, arms laced behind her back and smiling innocently. Hearing the footsteps, Myka glances behind her and blushes a furious scarlet as she sees the brunette approach.

Most people have the decency to make an effort to cover their hickeys with scarves or turtlenecks: not Helena. Helena is proud of the bruises that pepper her body every now and again, wearing them as badges of merit. Myka gulps every time she sees them: partly from the embarrassment of her own passion, and partly because of Helena’s pride when sporting them.

“Hello Myka,” Helena hums. Myka smiles uncertainly.

“Helena?” She asks, narrowing her eyes. Pleased Helena is never an innocent Helena.

“I was thinking we could do something,” Helena offers, approaching Myka carefully. Myka bites her lips, feigning uncertainty, but her eyes betray her as they focus on Helena’s lips.

Helena’s eyes flash hungrily and Myka backs against the ladder of the shelves. Helena grins at her body language: it’s both submitting and inviting, and yet the steely look in Myka’s eyes mirrors a certain kind of hunger. Helena steps into Myka, propping her hips on the taller woman’s thigh. She watches in fascination as Myka lifts her arm, a careful and deliberate movement, to trace the fading lovebite on Helena’s chest. Her fingers trail upwards, feather light, to cup Helena’s neck and trace the second, much newer hickey with her thumb.

“You should hide these,” Myka whispers, her voice husky.

“Why?” Helena leans slightly into Myka’s hand, humming at the warm pain that was rising through her body, settling into her stomach. Myka gulps. Helena takes Myka’s silence as an invitation. “Why would I want to hide your claim on me?” She whispers, closing the space between them as Myka’s hand graduates to her hair. Myka’s glance flickers to Helena’s lips again.

Their faces are literal millimeters apart: Myka can feel Helena’s weight shift and settle between her legs as the ladder behind her creaks. Myka can only concentrate on taking shallow breathes: inhaling Helena’s warmth and her smell of brass and coal. Helena’s breath ghosts over Myka’s lips: Myka leans forward so she can kiss her, but Helena pulls back playfully. Myka hums in disapproval, her hips bucking against Helena as Helena nips her jaw lazily. Myka tilts her head, offering her neck like a sacrificial lamb. Helena grazes her nose along it, deciding instead to pay homage to Myka’s perfect collar bone.

Helena pushes the button up t-shirt aside lightly with one hand, marvelling how such a small simple action can make Myka’s breath hitch. She kisses the clavicle lightly, breathing lightly as her lips barely graze the skin. Myka’s left hand trails from Helena’s back to the belt loops of her jeans so she can pull the time-traveller closer to her as her hips roll involuntarily. Helena carefully kisses the pale skin, alternating between sucking and biting carefully until Myka whines quietly. Her right hand frees itself from Helena’s hair to tilt up her chin. Helena’s grinning impishly as she looks up at Myka’s shallow breathing and slightly glazed eyes.

“Helena,” she begs quietly. Helena’s hands slide around Myka’s waist, trying to hold her closer as their lips find each other. Myka bit Helena’s lip, playing playfully and sucking. Helena groans and suddenly there is too much between them: the slow burn suddenly turns into a ranging inferno inside her chest as Helena presses herself against Myka and licking into the agent’s mouth. Myka moaned lightly and used Helena’s faltering concentration to her advantage, spinning the two of the around so she slams Helena into the ladder, which shudders precariously. The two women barely notice as Myka pushes her leg between Helena’s: her height gives her the ability to push Helena up. Helena gasps and grabs onto a wrung of the ladder for support as Myka’s hand slides under her shirt.

Myka’s mouth leaves Helena’s and traces down her jaw and her neck, stopping to suck lightly on the already present hickey, eliciting a small cry from Helena as the Brit’s hip buck into Myka. “You’re mine,” Myka reminds her: she is reward with a shiver as the whisper against her skin literally leaves Helena restless for a second. Myka barely notices; she’s pushing Helena’s blouse open and grinning up at Helena. Helena can’t breathe.

“I love your bras,” Myka murmurs, her voice having dropped an octave and hitting Helena right the bottom of her stomach. She undoes the front latch neatly and grins up at Helena again as the brunette whines quietly. Myka doesn’t waste any time: she sucks, and kisses, and licks, and Helena’s nipples are soon hard peaks under Myka’s tongue, her chest flushing dark to match her cheeks as she moans quietly in approval and her back arches off the ladder. Myka’s lips find Helena’s again as her hands begin slowly kneading Helena’s, to increasing moans from Helena.

Had they paid any attention, they would have heard some commotion from two sectors over: they were far too involved in each other to hear Pete’s cries as artefacts began attacking him. He cursed and ran to the nearest goo station, followed by something that looked like a particularly malicious toy car. He slammed down his hand on, what Claudia had fondly nicknamed, the Pete button:

<<disturbance in the alpha sector>> the screen immediately told Pete. Pete clicked the button again. <<neutralizing disturbance>>

The gooer over them suddenly hummed, shone red and then spluttered to life, covering a very distracted couple in deep purple liquid. Myka gasped, staring up at the gooer in anger as Helena tried to catch her breath, laughing breathlessly. With no uncertainty of the culprit, Myka turned to Pete’s general direction.

“Pete, I’m going to _fucking_ KILL you!” She shouted, her voice floating over the shelves to an emotionally traumatized Pete.

“You and like, twelve artefacts!” Pete called back. “Seriously Mykes: I was very worried about my welfare. Something could _kill_ me!”

“Something _will_ kill you when I get my hands on you,” Myka threatened, turning back to Helena, who was laughing gently against Myka’s shoulder. “It’s not funny,” Myka chastised her girlfriend, closing Helena’s bra and blouse over the goo.

“It is a bit.” Helena told Myka. Myka narrowed her eyes at her. Helena gestured around them. “We’re two sectors away from Pete,” Helena explains, “and yet his artefacts still responded to the disturbance.”

“And?”

“We have very good chemistry.” Myka laughed.

“I really didn’t need the Warehouse to tell me that,” she told the Brit with a pout. Helena cupped her face and gave her a light gooey kiss.

“I felt like the experiment had to be done,” she excused herself. “Now come on: I need to get this goo off so we can finish what we just started.”

“Mh, that _does_ sound inviting…”


End file.
